A Past Too Dark
by Lady MR1
Summary: *Dark Fic* Seto's treatment as a child


A Past Too Dark

He hit the child again.  The child winced.

"What did I tell you about emotions?" The question was asked emotionlessly.  He hit the child again.  This time, the child kept a straight face, although his eyes, which were looking at the carpet intently, were filled with pain.

"If you show emotion, everybody will use you."  The child replied.  His voice was unfortunately a bit too shaky.

Slap 

The child's face remained motionless.  His downcast eyes showed the pain.

"You loved your mother didn't you?"  The tone was conversational.

The child nodded.

Slap 

"Speak when I ask you a question child."  The tone was cold.

"Okay." The child's voice was barely a whisper, but in the deathly silent room, his voice was clearly heard.

Slap 

"Don't take that tone with me young man.  You will answer me with **sir** at the end of each sentence that comes out of your filthy mouth."  The adult said, his anger clearly heard.

"Yes…yes, sir."

"Better.  Now did you or did you not love your mother?"  The adult said it again in a conversational voice.

"I did, sir."

"She betrayed you did she not?  You loved her and she died didn't she?  I bet she promised to be there for you forever and now she left you.  And what about your father?  Bet he promised to love you forever.  Now where is he?  Dead.  None of your family wanted you and all of them either died or turned their back on you.  No one wants you.  No one, but me."

"That's not true!"  The child yelled as tears streamed down his face.

The adult punched the child, sending him flying backwards on his bottom.  The child had fell on his tailbone and hit his head hard on the carpet floor.  The numbness was felt first, but as the seconds ticked, he felt the pain and sobbed.

The adult waited until the child finished his crocodile tears.  As soon as the sobs subsided, he crouched down to look into the child's eyes.

"Men don't cry, and you will not raise your voice to me.  You will endure because it's your fault that your parents are dead.  You know what I say is true, I can see the guilt in your eyes."

The child was too scared to reply.  The adult's eyes held such malice and the adult's voice was so cold that the child was too left speechless with terror.  He wet his pants.

The adult heard the child urinate and his face twisted in disgust.  He stood up.

"Go to your room _child_.  You will never amount into anything if you this is how you react under pressure.  No wonder your parents left and no one else wanted you.  Your too pathetic."  The tone held so much disgust that the child was ashamed.

The child stood up and ran to his room.  He threw off his clothes and jumped into the bed naked.  His sobs reawakened and shock his small frame.

The child hated himself.  He saw the truth in his foster-father's words; it was all his fault.  Everything was his fault.  His parents' death, Aunt Mia's drinking, Cousin Anikan's bullying…

The sobs became so hard he hiccupped.

Again the sobs and hiccups subsided.  The child lay spread eagle on his bed, looking towards the window.  On the night table was a vase.

The vase had a cherry tree filled with cherry tree blossoms.  It reminded him of the orphanage.  It reminded him of the days, sometimes weeks, he went without food.  It reminded him of the constant bulling and people who wanted to adopt him but not his brother.  Most of all, it reminded him of the heartache and loss of hope whenever other boys were adopted, but he was left in the hell that he was forced to call home.

This new home wasn't better.  But it wasn't worse either.  It had food, the beds were warm, and at least he was adopted with his brother.

His brother.  The child was glad that his younger brother wasn't bullied by the foster-father.  As long as his brother was unscathed and unhurt, the child would endure anything that the adult could dish out.

But as soon as the adult broke the unspoken pack, the child would kill him.  It was a promise that the young boy had made within himself.  The promise was simple.  He would never do anything that hurt his brother, he would endure anything so that his brother would be safe, and he would kill anyone that hurt his brother.

The boy kept his promise, when, eight years later, he pushed his foster-father out the window.  The foster-father died on impact.

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